


Waltzes and Wine

by EtuBrutus



Category: Romeo And Juliet - All Media Types, Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, bear with the inaccuracies i know there are loads, i love crackships, really - Freeform, so juliet and rosaline are not related, that would be weird and NO they aren't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-11-29 12:11:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18222980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EtuBrutus/pseuds/EtuBrutus
Summary: Tonight's new objective: get drunk again. Rosaline poured the rosé from the bottle she'd been holding, into her own glass, as well as another."Wine, Mercutio?"They both must be a little tipsy already to be able to jest about their hopeless affections. Either that, or it's the knowledge that their best friends are in love that makes them a little less upset.He gladly accepts the glass from her, swirling the pink liquor inside the crystalline cup. "Misery loves company, I suppose."





	Waltzes and Wine

Rosaline holds her wine-glass between her fingers. The rosé isn't anything special, but the crystalline glass is painted yellow with the ballroom's light, and she feels like getting drunk. Especially since the Capulet engagement's been made official. Tonight's objective: get drunk, and forget about Juliet.

If she tilts the glass in her hand, a masked figure's lovesick eyes look back at her. Safely from the other side of the sprawling floor, but focusing on her anyway. Rosaline knows Romeo won't try anything - she's sworn off of men in public, and announced her wish to remain chaste. As a friend of the Capulets, no guest would dare touch her in their home. Especially not a trespassing Montague - that _would_ be entertaining to watch.

Rosaline brings the wine to her mouth and downs it in a few gulps. It's sweet, but the taste is lost on her - it's her third glass.

_Gorgeous and aloof, just like a peacock._

That's what they all say about her. Why? Because heart-struck Romeo doesn't know what's good for him. He isn't a bad man, but Rosaline's already set on someone. His poetry and stanzas are all in vain - she doesn't, _won't_ _ever_ reciprocate.

She wonders if Juliet would do the same, in her place. It's a silly thought - this is _her_ engagement party, and Paris is on far better terms with the Capulets than Romeo will ever be.

Rosaline's getting stuck in her own mind again. Time to be 'aloof and gorgeous,' just like they want her to be. She gets up and heads towards the crowd, with her glass still in hand. People are dancing a twirling around, donning masques and cloaks and velvet dresses. The light from the chandeliers spills yellow across the polished floor. It's the perfect engagement party, but no matter how much rosé she drinks, the bitterness won't let Rosaline go.

The wine table is at the wall furthest from her. Tonight's new objective: get to the table without falling.

She passes a small crowd of suits and feathered hats and muskets, swarming around Paris. The lucky _fiance_. Rosaline walks on without a second glance.

He's rich and powerful. Handsome, too. That's what they say about Paris. It's a wonder she bothered to remember.

She focuses on the wooden floor under her shoes, the sound they make drowned out by the chatter. The wine table is in sight, and there's only one other person there. Good.

Rosaline brushes past a few more people before leaning against the table and scouring it for the wine. The other person - a woman, in a scarlet swath of silk and velvet - stares at her. She's content to ignore the gaze - it's coming from behind a mask, anyway, until she hears the voice.

"Rosaline?"

She almost spills the rosé.

"Oh, thank god, it's _you_." Juliet laughs, and slides back her mask.

Juliet's face is youthful in a way that never fades. Innocent in a way that can brave the worst storms. Soft and elegant at the same time - she truly _is_ beautiful. But the real spectacle is when she smiles and laughs. It's like watching the sky fall - you just can't stop watching. Rosaline knows it'll be the death of her, but she just can't stop staring at the falling sky.

_Twenty men of Paris's worth would not deserve her. She's far too good for him._

Juliet's looking at her, intently. Rosaline laughs weakly, "Yes, it's me." Funny. She's supposed to be funny. "Don't thank god, thank the horseman."

Juliet throws her head back in roaring laughter. Rosaline finds it strange - in all the years she's known the woman, Juliet's never been casually expressive. She looks back over her shoulder, and Paris is a crowd away. Without Juliet at his side, _at their own engagement party._ A thought occurs to her.

"Juliet, how much wine have you had?"

Juliet words are imperceptibly slurred when she replies, "Probably less than you." she shoves Rosaline's shoulder, giggling. "That rosé costs money, you know,"

"Paris's money, no doubt." The words are out before she can stop them. _Merda_. Shit.

Juliet's face twists in distaste. "Yes. Paris." she slips her mask back on and grabs Rosaline's elbow. "I don't want to think of him. Christ, I'm so happy you're here. Let's dance."

Rosaline has danced with men on compulsion, and women when she actually wished to, but she'd never expected Juliet would be in her arms during an Italian waltz. She's dreamed and fantasized it, definitely, but the situation is unexpected.

And Rosaline is drinking it up like rosé wine. The bitterness is going to come back soon, but for the moment, everything is sweet and warm and yellow.

 

They're on the dance floor, with people in suits and gowns twirling around them. Everything is in sync, everything is perfectly timed, and the waltz is fast and fierce. Rosaline and Juliet are the only couple without a man, and so they make up their own steps.

 _twist, step, skip, twist, step, skip._ Juliet laughs now, genuinely, and it's quiet enough that only Rosaline can hear it. Her mask covers her face, but she'd be recognizable anywhere; the best of the Capulets, the most graceful (and cajoling) of women - it's a wonder Rosaline and Paris are the only ones who've fallen for her.

They're drawn close when Juliet whispers, "I don't actually want to marry Paris. I can't tell anyone - Father would disown me." It's sudden, and she giggles again, but Rosaline's sure the woman's mask is hiding more than just her face. "I...I don't love him, and I _hate_ that I don't, because I'll have to marry him anyway."

_She deserves far better than Paris. She shouldn't have to drink herself away to be happy about him._

They're still dancing, but the waltz is slower now, and Juliet's scarlet gown blends into her own buttercup one. It must be a beautiful sight, to see the flowers of gowns twirling together, rather than with suits and muskets. "Sweet Juliet," she says, close to her ear, "It'll be alright. Trust me, it will."

Juliet looks down, and tightens her grip on Rosaline's shoulders. "How can you _know_?" And they both know that she doesn't - that Sir Capulet would let his daughter burn for enough money and power. Women control nothing but themselves here, and even that is sometimes taken away.

"Well," she says, tilting Juliet's chin up again, "Perhaps he'll fall off his horse and leave you with his fortune. Or impale himself on his own musket." They both laugh, and Rosaline realizes that it's always been like this. The two of them, best friends, laughing in the face of whatever tragedy rears its head.

It's enough to satisfy her, Rosaline thinks. It'll have to be enough, since she loves Juliet far more than could ever be reciprocated.

"Yes, and then I could find a man I _truly_ love." Her friend says, a little happier.

Rosaline smiles, even though she doesn't want to. "You've got your pick of all the men in Verona as your partner, mi amore." Men. And Rosaline, too, though that would be impossible. The waltz is coming to an end, and her feet, no matter how willing, are tired. Both of them are drunk, anyway. They walk away from the twirling crowd, and back to the wine table.

On their way, a pair of eyes follows Rosaline, in hope of catching her gaze. It's the party-crashing Montague, Romeo, no doubt. She wonders how long it'll take Tybal to find and fight him - hopefully, he won't do both at once. The engagement party's already strained, with the couple at opposite ends of the room - they didn't need Romeo causing trouble as well.

Romeo really should find someone else to wax poetry for and make love to. It's a wonder Mercutio hasn't told him so.

 

The two of them finally get back to the wine table, and Rosaline sees the countless bottles of rosé to be served. They're alone here, so Juliet takes off her masque - she averts her gaze, because she knows she'll stare otherwise. She reaches for two wine-glasses, and sets them in front of her, when Juliet speaks up.

"So, those things about Paris's death. Did you say them for any particular reason?"

Rosaline stills as her hand reaches for the bottle. "...What?"

"You know, the stuff about his fortune. Was it because of the chaste-ness thing? Swearing off men?"

Rosaline looks down. _No, that's not it at all. It's **you** , Juliet. It's always been you._

"I...I mean, it's okay if it is. You don't have to tell me about it, Rosaline."

"It's nothing. Really."

Juliet smiles again. "Okay."

Everything's peaceful for a moment; unspoken conversation hangs in the air, and the music from the dance floor mingles with it.  

 

Then, Mercutio shows up, with Romeo in tow.

Rosaline sighs, as she thinks of something to say to the lovesick Montague - he's still got that disgustingly admiring look in his eyes. _It must be worse for Mercutio,_ she thinks, as the two men approach in their masques and livery. _He's more lovesick than Romeo ever will be._

As he comes closer, she feels Juliet shift beside her, probably donning her masque again. Her scarlet gown rustles, and Rosaline can hear an intake of breath.

It makes sense when she sees Romeo's gaze isn't directed at Rosaline at all. She and Mercutio have been completely forgotten.

"Sweet maiden, allow me to speak your graces. Your eyes, your lips, your skin - they're akin to the essence of a nightingale's song."

Romeo's voice is _sickeningly_ sweet. It's so genuine, and heartfelt - in another life, perhaps Rosaline would have loved him back. But, in another life, Juliet wouldn't have been with her.

Juliet seems to be somewhere else entirely, her eyes trained on the Montague's. "I do allow you this courtesy, stranger. In fact, I encourage it."

The words were a jest, something she'd have sniggered to Rosaline in secret. But Juliet sounded breathless, _nervous -_

_infatuated._

Another one of God's many, beautiful banes for her. _Take away my opinion, image, rights, why don't you? Just for laughs, make the woman I've loved forever fall for a fucking Montague._

Juliet is in her scarlet gown, and Romeo is wearing a musket and suit. They both continue to gaze at each other, the intensity _palpable_ even through their masques.

"Mistress Capulet, would you grace my heart with a dance?"

"Why, stranger," Juliet says breathlessly, to the Montague, "I'd love to."

The couple - they may as well be called that, now - head toward the dance floor. Juliet doesn't look back, and Rosaline notices Mercutio following Romeo's image from beside her.

 _Tonight's new objective: get drunk again._ She poured the rosé from the bottle she'd been holding, into her own glass, as well as another.

"Wine, Mercutio?"

They both must be a little tipsy already to be able to jest about their hopeless affections. Either that, or it's the knowledge that their best friends are in love that makes them a little less upset.

He gladly accepts the glass from her, swirling the pink liquor inside the crystalline cup. "Misery loves company, I suppose."

**Author's Note:**

> yep, i know this actually follows no part of the play AT ALL but i wrote it for the fun of it, so enjoy.   
> because, really, i haven't actually read the play and i know this ship will never exist in any other fic (idk what these notes are, comment if you liked anything.) 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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